by Alan Tucker
Robert had told us that Emu is north-west of here, so we worked out where that was and scratched an arrow into the metal tank pointing in that direction. On the morning of the test we’ll have to look that way and wait. I really want to see something. We may not see the flash, but the mushroom cloud rises thousands of feet straight up before it starts to drift away so I’m sure we’ll see that.
On the way home we checked our traps. We had two rabbits. Dave’s dad will be pleased.
Monday, 26 October
The big rumour at school is about a mysterious black mist that they think was caused by last week’s bomb blast. Robert had heard that part of the mushroom cloud blew along the ground instead of going up into the sky. The wind made it drift across a cattle station. The people there got sick with diarrhoea, vomiting and sore eyes. They think those symptoms were caused by radiation. I hope Mum never hears this rumour.
The family who owns the station are all right. They were inside when the mist blew across, but the Aboriginal workers are sick because they were camped in the bush. Their skin got covered in sticky oil. Yuck, how foul! The people who got it in their eyes can’t see properly.
‘Like the rabbits with myxie,’ Dave said.
Being blind would be worse than not being able to walk. Polio stopped me walking for months, but at least I could see. And because I could see I could read and draw when I started to feel better. If I had been blind I wouldn’t have been able to do those fun things.
Dad heard the story about the black mist and said it’s rubbish. He said two Native Patrol officers warned the Aborigines about the bomb test, so there wouldn’t have been any roaming around. And anyway, the cloud couldn’t have gone along the ground after such a massive explosion.
‘You saw the photos in the paper, Anthony. It went sky high.’
I asked him if it could have dropped down to earth again later. He didn’t know. He said the scientists said it blew away safely and anyway, the planes that landed here after the test were proof of that. They’d flown through the cloud thousands of feet in the air.
‘I’m employed by the Australian Army, son, and if the Australian Government tell me there was no danger then that’s good enough for me.’
He was so cross about the rumour that he almost forgot to tell me that there’d been a parcel from Mum. He’d put the new comic she sent on my bed. I read it straight away before I wrote up my diary.
She wrote me a short letter to say she hoped to come home this weekend. She still likes boarding at the hospital and retraining to be a nurse. If she does come home I hope Mum and Dad don’t argue.
Later
Dave just tapped on my window and told me the next bomb test is in the morning. Fair dinkum. His dad was told by someone who flew some officials to Emu this evening.
I’m really looking forward to seeing the bomb explode, even after hearing about the people who got sick. I’m not worried, because if there is a black mist Dave and I will be the first to see it. We’ll have time to climb down and hide if it’s drifting this way. Not that the Army would let that happen. They don’t want the scientists and military people here at Woomera getting sick.
Wednesday, 28 October
We did it. We got up at 6 o’clock yesterday and climbed the ladder. The rungs were icy cold and stung our bare fingers, but we didn’t care. We figured the reward would make the pain worthwhile.
The view from the top of the water tank was sensational. We saw the sun rising over the horizon. In Townsville I saw it come up a couple of times, but there it rises over the ocean. Here it’s over the land. Luckily where the bomb was set to explode was in the opposite direction. The rays would spotlight the dust cloud.
The morning air was chilly, but we ignored it. I could tell Dave was excited because he spoke even faster than usual and kept glancing in the direction of the bomb test.
We wanted to sit down so we couldn’t be seen, but the metal was too cold and wet. We didn’t complain. If the test had been later in the day, the metal would have been so hot we wouldn’t have been able to set foot on it.
I drew Superman in the dew while Dave squatted next to me and prattled on. I can’t remember anything he said. I only wanted to hear one thing—the BOOM of the bomb.
Dave and I stared to the north-west and grew quieter and quieter, hoping to hear the bang. We couldn’t remember what comes first: the sound or the sight of the bomb exploding. We knew one travels faster than the other. I told him I thought light travels faster, which is why we see lightning before we hear thunder.
I still haven’t heard a bomb because although we waited more than an hour, we heard nothing except the CAW CAW CAW of the crows. Up there, level with the treetops, their warning calls were magnified.
My Superman dew-drawing slowly melted as the sun rose higher. Moisture smudged into the lines my finger had made and my hero dissolved into a puddle.
When I heard the 8 o’clock bus I knew I couldn’t wait any longer or I’d be late for school. Dave said he wasn’t giving up. He really wanted to see or hear the explosion.
He didn’t have to wait long to hear something: THUMP. That’s how he described the sound my body made as it hit the earth. Exactly the sound effect you read in a comic. The only difference was there was no scream of panic before it. AAAaaaaahhhhhhhhhh THUMP!
The fall happened so quickly I didn’t have time to cry out. Luckily I fell from the bottom rung and not the top, or I wouldn’t be here to tell what happened.
I remember thinking how slippery the rungs had become since I had climbed up. The sunrays that dissolved my Superman drawing melted the dew on the ladder too. I remember losing my grip, falling and hearing the SNAP of my leg as it buckled under me and sent me crashing headfirst into the tank. The next thing I remember is Dave saying he was running for help.
As I lay in a daze I remember wishing I’d been Superman when I fell. If I had been I would have had the strength to hang on to the ladder, and even if I had fallen I wouldn’t have hit the ground. I’d have swooped upwards and flown off just before I crash-landed.
I also remember thinking, ‘Mum’s not going to be happy!’ At the time I thought I was shivering out of fear of her, but the doctor told me later my body was in shock.
I remember weird disconnected memories drifting in and out of my mind. Unfortunately, every time things started to make sense, a black mist drifted in and hid the image. I felt just like Rusty must have when he became lost in the network of burrows.
Eventually I heard a reassuring voice: Mum’s. I strained to make her face appear, but when the features came into focus I saw Dad, not Mum.
‘It’s all right, Anthony. The ambulance will soon have you at the doctor’s. If he gives you the all clear to fly, you’ll be in Adelaide this afternoon. The most important thing to know is you’ll be all right. You’re in good hands. Okay, son?’
I don’t think he told me all that at once, but I do remember him constantly talking to me as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I don’t remember being moved from the water tank to the airport, but I was aware of being in the aeroplane. I was bitterly disappointed I couldn’t sit up and see the view from the window. I was flying like Superman, but was powerless to do anything.
My head ached, but not as much as my leg. I wasn’t as worried about my injuries as I was about what Mum would say.
I needn’t have worried. She was very kind. She’s visited me several times, sometimes as Mum, sometimes as my nurse.
My leg’s broken, but there are no other serious injuries.
Saturday, 31 October
Mum spoke to me calmly about how stupid I was to climb the water tank. She told the doctor she wouldn’t have flown me to Adelaide. She’d have put me on the open tray of a truck and sent me south along the bumpy Port Augusta road to teach me a lesson. I knew she was joking, but I saw the doctor give her a funny look. He told me I had a clean break and after the plaster comes off my leg will be as good as new.
It wasn’t just t
he risk of climbing the ladder that upset Mum: it was the risk of exposure to radiation. She’d also read about the black mist from Totem 1 and told me my behaviour was incredibly dumb.
‘You’re lucky to get out of this with a broken leg, Anthony. Why don’t you think before you do dumb things?’
I thought that was a strange thing to ask but didn’t dare laugh. How can you know something is dumb until it goes wrong? If people could predict accidents, they wouldn’t happen, would they?
Monday, 2 November
Mum’s done lots of reading about radiation poisoning since she’s lived in Adelaide. She knows tons more about what happened to the Japanese people who survived the atomic bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
She wouldn’t tell me any details. She said they were too horrible. She didn’t want me to know because I was too young to hear of such awful things. ‘But I want your father and his mates to know so they realise what they’re dealing with if they go anywhere near the test site.’
I was scared to ask Mum about the bomb blast, but I did anyway. She paused before she answered. ‘I’m pleased Totem 2 was smaller than the first test, and pleased there are no news stories of black mists or air crews exposed to radiation clouds. But I’m worried that the government will hide the truth if anything like that happens again.’
Monday, 2 November
There are some very sick kids in my ward. I feel sorry for them. I remember what it’s like to be young, sick and away from family.
I’ll be here for a few more days until Mum can take me home. She’s been given the weekend off. Before then she’s asked me to do some drawings for the really little kids. She says they’d like that. I told her I would.
The nurses are so much better than when I had polio. Some of them are training with Mum. They like her. One said she’s like a second mother to her. Maybe that’s why they’re treating me so well.
Thursday, 5 November
I’ve done squillions of drawings and I’ve made some Superman mobiles too. The little kids love to watch him flying from the ceiling. He made me feel good too, when I was young.
For a bit of fun I played inside cricket with some of the older kids. I told one to guard the door and warn us if a nurse was coming. We had a great time. We used one of my crutches as the bat and a pair of rolled-up socks for the ball.
After the game I told the kids I’m going home tomorrow. A couple of the smallest ones hugged me and said I wasn’t allowed to go. They wouldn’t let me.
Tonight is cracker night. The older kids were allowed to stand at the windows and watch the fireworks over the city. We could mostly only see sky rockets, but at one stage someone lit catherine-wheels in the parklands across the road. Mum stood alongside me. I said, ‘I didn’t think you liked explosives, Mum.’
‘I don’t like the military sort that have the potential to annihilate life on the planet, Anthony.’
Friday, 6 November
The kids wouldn’t let me into their ward first thing this morning. Now I know why. They were working on a farewell card for me.
‘Mr Superman’ they called me on the front cover. They’d all drawn something, and those old enough to write had written me a goodbye message.
Mum had a surprise for me at lunchtime too. Graeme Hole and Gil Langley visited me and signed my plaster cast. They’re South Australian cricketers who played for Australia in England this year. Gil Langley’s the wicketkeeper and not a very good batsman, but Graeme Hole’s a really good batter.
The Adelaide cricket oval is just across the road from the hospital. Mum must have gone over and asked if some players could visit. She was lucky any were available. They fly to Perth in a few days for the first Sheffield Shield game of the season against Western Australia.
They were good fun. They stayed for ages and talked to all of the children, especially those too sick to get out of bed. One of the little boys mentioned I’d taught them to play cricket and the next thing we had the crutch and socks out and were playing. The nurses didn’t mind. They joined in. Mum surprised me. She was a really good batter and belted the socks right out into the corridor.
I showed Mr Hole how I bowl my Bosie. He was impressed I could flick my wrist so much. He told me not to give up bowling spin even if batsmen hit lots of fours and sixes off my bowling.
‘Your skills will improve if you’re patient.’
I told him that when I had polio the doctors told me the opposite. They said I had to become impatient and work hard to help myself get better.
He patted me on the shoulder and told me I had the right spirit.
I told him I hope he makes lots of runs this summer.
Later
Mum and I are waiting at the Adelaide train station. Dad will meet us at Pimba and take us home. Mum can only stay for the weekend. She says she wants to stay longer. She’s thinks I need her help to get to and from school on my crutches. I told her not to worry. I want her to come back to Adelaide and finish learning to be a nurse again.
‘The kids in hospital need good nurses, Mum, and you’re really good.’
She smiled and put her arm around my shoulder. ‘Thanks, Anthony. Now I want to learn to be a good mother and wife again. It’s hard to get the balance right. Dad and I sorted out a few of our differences over the phone this week. There’s still a lot we have to work out, but we’ve made a start and agreed on one thing: there’ll be no arguments when I visit Woomera. I promise you that and Dad does too. We want to be one happy family again, don’t we?’
I nodded, ‘Yes,’ then added, ‘As long as it’s not pretend happy.’
When I get home I’m going to practise bowling my Bosie in the backyard. Then when my leg’s healed I’ll go to cricket practice, get selected in the team again and win a game using my secret weapon. HOWZAT?
HISTORICAL NOTES
ATOMIC TESTING
• 80,000 Japanese civilians died in the 6 August 1945 atomic explosion over Hiroshima. 40,000 more died in subsequent years because of injury or radiation poisoning.
• 40,000 Japanese civilians died in the 9 August 1945 atomic explosion over Nagasaki. 25,000 more died in subsequent years because of injury or radiation poisoning.
• British atomic testing in Australia commenced in 1952, when a bomb was exploded on the Montebello Islands off the north-west coast of Western Australia. The first tests on the Australian mainland were the two 1953 Emu Field tests. Testing moved back to the Montebello Islands in 1956, where two tests were conducted before the project moved to the Maralinga test site in September 1956. Between then and October 1957 six tests were conducted at that location.
• Minor tests were conducted until 1963. These caused greater long-term radiation pollution than the more spectacular bomb blasts.
• Allegations of a radioactive black mist that caused illness and death amongst Aboriginal people after the first Emu Field test were investigated by Justice James McClelland, who chaired the 1984–85 Royal Commission into British nuclear tests in Australia. The Commission concluded it didn’t have sufficient evidence that radiation caused the deaths or illnesses. Similar black mists were reported at Hiroshima and Nagasaki after atomic bomb blasts.
• In 2008 a group of former servicemen from New Zealand, Fiji and Britain launched a lawsuit against the British Ministry of Defence. They claim they were exposed to dangerous levels of radiation during the atomic testing program. Later that year the Ministry of Defence admitted that some men had died as a result of their exposure to radiation.
• Since the completion of atomic testing the Australian and South Australian governments have tried to hand the land back to the Maralinga-Tjaruta people, the traditional owners. They will not accept the return of either the Maralinga or Emu Field sites until the land is clear of nuclear pollution.
• In May and June 1957 the British Government started nuclear testing in the Pacific on Malden Island. In November of the same year they moved their tests permanently to nearby Christmas Island.
&nbs
p; • The tiny island of Elugelab in the Marshall Islands ‘disappeared’ after a United States bomb test on 1 November 1952.
• The US conducted 11 atomic tests in Nevada between 17 March and 4 June 1953. The largest was the last, a 61 kiloton explosion.
• In 1963 a Limited Test Ban Treaty was signed by the US and the USSR (Union of Soviet Socialist Republics).
• In 1967 more than sixty signatories signed an Outer Space Treaty banning nuclear weapons in space.
• In 1968 a Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty was signed by the five nuclear powers of the time: China, France, the United Kingdom, the US and the USSR. They agreed not to sell nuclear secrets or equipment to other would-be nuclear powers.
• In 1996 seventy-one nations signed a Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty to address the global threat posed by nuclear proliferation.
• In 2006 North Korea became the ninth country to have the capability to explode an atomic bomb, along with China, France, India, Israel, Pakistan, the UK, the US and Russia.
ROCKET TESTING AT WOOMERA
• When the Second World War ended the British Government was lagging behind the US, German and USSR militaries in rocket technology. There was not enough space in the British Isles for a rocket testing range, so they looked for a site in other Commonwealth countries.
• In 1947 a joint Australian–British project began operation on the Woomera Rocket Range in South Australia. It extended 1,850 kilometres, from Mt Eba station in South Australia to Eighty Mile Beach near Port Hedland on the Western Australia coast. The range was established to develop a guided missile system to intercept and destroy incoming enemy bombers.